The thought made me groan, my body spiraling ever higher as I fought, holding back my final fall.
He released my bottom, a single sharp spank landing like liquid heat on my bare skin. And that orgasm he commanded from me? The one I was holding back? Yeah, there it was. I screamed, arched my back, my hard nipples chafing against the table top as I lost control, went blind, an abyss opening up to swallow me as I shattered.
I lost all sense of myself, my only reality the hard thrust of his cock as he pumped into me as my pussy milked him.
“Mate,” he said, just before he sank deep, settled, then roared like an animal.
It was like a beast had filled him, taken over. Claimed me.
I felt his seed, hot and thick, coating me deep inside. It was too much for me to hold as he moved again, fucking me through his release, his hot seed sliding from me and down my thighs.
I felt so good and so wrong. Controlled. Overpowered. Blatantly claimed.
Bad. Bad. Bad. I was soooo bad right now.
I didn’t even try to get up, not even when he released my wrists and grabbed my hips to pull me back. Hard. He lifted my ass off the table and pulled me onto his cock which was already swelling. Ready for more.
I groaned, trying to move my arms. No luck, but something rattled. The sound odd. Out of place.
“Stay.” He grunted the order and thrust into me again. Submitting to him went against everything I was, and yet…my pussy clenched with his barked command. Perhaps I wasn’t everything I imagined.
His fingers dug deep, pulling me back until he bottomed out inside me.
Yes!
I was hot all over again. Ready for more. Needy. I could go for hours…
“Caroline.” The voice came from out of nowhere. Cold. Clinical. A woman’s voice.
Who?
Everything faded even as I struggled to stay in that body, as he pulled out and slowly filled me again. Spread me open. I groaned, fighting for it. Fighting to stay with him.
“Caroline!” Sharp this time. Insistent. Like a teacher scolding her student.
Oh God. The testing…
I gasped—this time not from pleasure—and my eyes flew open.
Instead of bracelets about my wrists, I had restraints. I was naked, but I wasn’t bent over with my lover’s hands on my hips. I was shackled to a medical exam chair wearing an Interstellar Brides Processing Center gown. The logo tracked up and down the hospital-style gown in neat, perfect rows of burgundy on gray fabric.
Clinical. Sterile. All business.
I wasn’t pressed over a hard table. I wasn’t being filled and fucked until my entire body exploded. There was no giant man.
There was only me and a stern looking woman in her late twenties. Gray eyes. Dark brown hair coiled tightly into a bun at the base of her skull. She looked like a grumpy ballerina, and her name floated to the surface even before I read her name tag.
Warden Egara. She was doing my testing. Testing for the Interstellar Brides Program. A process which would match me to an alien and send me into outer space to be his wife.
Forever.